Resting Day Yehet!

That’s what a hard-working young adult mangaka declared. His long limbs sprawled on the couch, legs touching the wooden floor. His tired face and naturally dark patch of eye bags lied flat on the soft cushion.

“Three ing days of no sleep. I barely close my eyes. Oh you Xiumin.” He grumbled before he closes his eyes last night. It was three in the morning that his editor finally wrapped up his latest work.

He tossed and the small couch that he self-proclaimed as his bed, soft curses escaped his mouth as he tried to find the most comfortable position. People said having a tall figure is the best, but not to Huang Zitao. Tall means more space, more length for his jeans and bed, more height for the door and ceiling.

Life as a mangaka is not glamorous, that’s the truth.

For the past three days, the tall boy was battling to finish sketches of his work. Just when he needed his assistant the most, Park Chanyeol, the latter decided to call in sick. The dumb and creepy wide-smiled assistant is sick? Impossible! Tao thought he is far from human considering his bubbly personality and weird taste in pranks.

With the absence of his happy-go-lucky assistant, nothing seemed to lift up his mood as he constantly pestered by the editor Xiumin who called every thirty minutes.

“Is it done?” the editor repeated.

“Give me a break!” the mangaka hissed, one hand diligently drawing while the other hold on to the phone by his ear. “I wish I could draw with all the limbs I had but you know how ed up wishes are, right?”

“Well, I don’t care how you do it.” The editor replied blatantly. “You are way past the deadline. The chief is biting my head right now!”

“I hope it’s true…” Tao snickered.

“What?”

“That you loses your head so I can be at peace.”

Tao heard sound of curses from the editor in the background. Before he pressed on the red, the editor continued, “Use your feet or whatever. I will come over in the next three days.”

“Will it make you happy if I told you that Chanyeol is sick and I am pretty much tied with doing this alone?”

“Oh very happy.”

Tao set the phone down and pressed on the loudspeaker. If he wanted his work done, he needed all his hands and use it.

“Tao panda…” the editor speaks. Tao rolled his eyes upon the nickname. “I am more happy that weird assistant of yours is sick. He drives me crazy!”

“Tell me about it.”

“Anyway, I have to go. I’ll call you in….” there’s a pause and Tao shakes his head in annoyance. The elder is bad in telling the time. The latter relies on digital clock more than the classic. “Is that thirty minutes?”

“I guess…”

From the reply, the call ended. Tao can finally draw in peace. If it wasn’t for the editor, he wondered if he’d be this successful. Yes, being a mangaka have its up and down. However, having Xiumin as the editor is not a bad thing. The man may be persistent and chew his often, but the attitude made him pursue more.

Despite the love hate going on between Tao and Xiumin, the younger have to admit that if it wasn’t for Xiumin, he would be living in the sidewalk now. He remembered the fight he had with his father years ago. How long has it been since he left home?

“TAO-YAH!”

“Mother of–“Tao bit his lip, hands over his chest. “Here’s my super-duper favorite editor!” he lied, faking a smile beneath his obvious frown.

“Are you done?”

Tao flip the pages of his drawings. He sighed when there are still bundles of it. “Yes I am done, er.”

“Done for real? Like really really?”

“More like mentally and physically done, baozi.”

Xiumin closed their distance and propped his chin on the mangaka’s shoulder. The latter immediately flinched by the contact.

“I thought you’d call in thirty minutes!” Tao scowled. Apparently barging into his house without any notice is not to his liking. However, the editor didn’t get the hint.

“I didn’t say I’ll call you…”

Great, not only the editor is bad with telling the time, he’s also forgetful. It is barely fifteen minutes since their last call and here he was, clinging to Tao like the boy is his own panda toy.

Tao shrugged the editor off of him, continuing his work. “It would be great if you help out…” a pout formed.

“You know the last time I tried to help you–”

“Oh not really. I don’t remember well except the time when I left my work for a while, probably for a few minutes, and I guess some demon named Xiumin decided to draw mustaches to every human character.”

Xiumin pulled Tao back, arms now around the boy’s waist. Tao felt vibration on his back as the editor bursts into laughter. “That was funny.” Tao whipped his head back and glare at him. “I said I was sorry. Its Chanyeol’s idea, okay?”

Tao didn’t respond. His hands diligently colored the white spaces in his drawing.

“Will coffee make myself forgiven?”

Tao hummed. He turned and look at the editor. “Extending the dateline could help.”

Xiumin flashed a wide grin. From his face, Tao can tell that the latter mentally cursing.

“Coffee it is! Work hard, Tao panda~” the editor cooed and leave Tao alone, making his way to the kitchen. “Oh yeah, I need you to fix few parts.”

The sound of loud groan from the other room are heard as Xiumin brew the coffee. Somewhere within the editor, he enjoyed torturing the teenage boy. Oh how delightful he is to see the annoyed face of his favorite mangaka. Working as an editor is a pain but the frienemy relationship he had with Tao was worth it.

For Xiumin, the boy is like family — his own none blood-related brother.

Snores and sleep talking filling the room, lighted with afternoon beams. That was typical for Tao, sleeping the whole day — not even minding the hunger he felt or the bath he missed. It was typical that his phone rang in the middle of his sleep but something tells him that the call is important.

He creased his brows, touching his sides to find the ringing phone. Eyes close and lips lopsided into a frown, he rubbed the empty place beside his head. He usually throw his phone beside his head. Where is the damn phone now?

He snuggled to the soft cushion, slightly jerked as he felt a vibration from the bottom part of his body. He sighed before he deliberately take the phone out of his back pocket. Tao make a mental note that he needs to sleep more than two hours. Sleep deprivation is not good for his well-being. He can feel his body turned warmer.

With one eye open, he make out the words flashing on his phone.

‘Ziyi’

He shot both his eyes open. Instinct told him that the phone call is important for his sister is not the type to call out of the blue. If she calls, something happen, be it bad or good.

“Y-Yes?” he croaked, voice sore due to his dry throat.

“Gege… Gege… dad… h-he’s….” the voice of his sister died down and replaced with a loud sobbing.

Tao seated himself on the couch, holding the phone tight to his ear in hope that he could hear more. “Don’t joke around, Ziyi! Tell me what’s wrong.”

His heart raced as the only reply is more loud cries. He heard his mother comforting his sister behind the line. The phone rustles, and a familiar voice that he missed so much speaks up.

“Taozi… my dear Taozi.” The woman behind the line sighed. “P-Please come back home.”

From the sound of his mother, Tao can feel his heart hammering against his chest. What is this intense atmosphere?

“Mom… you know I have things to do here. I can’t just–”

“Your father passed away this morning.”

Tao almost dropped his phone but he gather all his strength, though his hands shaking terribly. “W-What?!”

“He had a heart attack, Taozi….” Her stern voice turned shaky, telling Tao how hard for her to be calm at this moment. “W-We need you here… Taozi please come back…”

A moment of silence accompanied him as he recalled the last time he met his father. He cursed that as far as he remembered, he never tell his father anything good. Being the only son and the youngest, his father expect too much from him. What his father wanted was a son that can excel well in school, be rich and be proud of. Well Tao is not even close. He is not a smart student, he is a sore loser mangaka and he was sure as hell that his father is not proud of it.

The latter will never be proud of him.

That made him frozen in his shocked state. What did he ever do to make his father proud? He left home at an early age, learned the hardship of living on his own. He risked leaving school just because he was too ego to admit that at some point, his father did said that being a mangaka will never lead him anywhere. He was too young and dumb to realize. 

And again, his mind wondered and guilt drowned him. He didn’t even have the guts to tell him how much he loves him, how much he wanted to be back and tell him sorry. How shameful he is for being someone that his father despised.

“M-Mom….” He bite his quivering lips. Tears are b on his eyes and he tried hard to reply, “I-I’ll be back there…tonight. I promise.”

He packed all his things immediately, taking some of his clothes and snuck his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. He dashed towards to subway, buy a ticket to his hometown and waited for the train.

He text Xiumin and Chanyeol, telling them that he’ll be back this weekend. He explained his situation when Xiumin panicked and accused him of running away. He was glad that the editor understood and sends him a word of condolences.

Despite the sad news, that’s not the only thing that made Tao stopped walking towards the arriving train. He was guilty, that’s for sure. However, he remembered a certain someone that further make him want to leave.

Kris.

“Oh !” Tao stumbled to the side as the crowds entered the train. He clutched on the straps of his bag, walking into the train and take a seat in the corner. He then plugged in his earphone as the train take him to his destination.

He glance side to side, watching the different ages of people around him.

“The last thing I want is for him to be there.” He sighed. “I can’t risk meeting him. Not after….” Tao felt his cheeks flushed, immediately covering it with his hands.

“Kris, please disappear. Out of my mind, now.”